


Sweet Surrender

by AccioMjolnir



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Curious Friendships, Extravagant Malfoy Galas, F/M, Fake Dating, Fake Relationship, Formalwear, Friendship is Magic, holiday parties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioMjolnir/pseuds/AccioMjolnir
Summary: Ron and Hermione break up just before all of those Holiday season festivities start up and Hermione is too high-profile to go without a date. Enter the Ministry's most charming employee, Blaise Zabini. But can she resist his well-known charm?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44
Collections: Love Fest 2021, Rare Pairs RHM Read for LoveFest





	Sweet Surrender

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GinnySocks (ginnysocks)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnysocks/gifts).



> "I'll write a quick Blaise/Hermione fake dating story," I said. "It'll be like 2000 words tops," I said.
> 
> Well. Here we are.
> 
> Written for Fairest of the Rare's Love Fest 2021. #TeamVenus

Hermione stared at the invitation on her desk with a frown, wondering if a strong enough glare would cause it to catch fire. She even tried concentrating really hard on the word  _ incendio _ , but it turns out that wandlessly and wordlessly immolating an invitation was beyond her skill set.

Curse the day she’d befriended Draco Malfoy. Curse Harry Potter for becoming his partner in the DMLE and befriending him first. And curse Ron Weasley for dumping her in November because “you know it’s not working out and I’d rather not go to all your bloody formal work events this Christmas, so let’s just be done with it.” It left her suddenly alone for every last one of those events. As if they weren’t taxing enough.

Curse them all. 

So now she sat staring at an invitation to the Malfoy Christmas Charity Gala, an event she’d gritted her teeth and attended every year since they’d become friends because it was, she had to admit, the best networking event of the year. Last year’s gala had gotten her the foot in the door with Bartimus Wilcox, a ludicrously wealthy and eccentric old man who had singlehandedly funded her campaign for the expansion of werewolf rights. She’d worked on it all year and legislation had finally passed the Wizengamot in October, creating significant changes in governmental protections for werewolves. There were so many newly bitten people after the war. Helping to keep them from being ostracized after their traumas had felt like the only right thing to do.

She was interrupted from glaring at her invitation by a knock at her door. Glancing up, she smiled tightly as Blaise Zabini swept in, all charm and broad smiles and crinkled eyes. He was the single most beautiful thing her friendship with Draco Malfoy had brought into her life. He had a reputation around the Ministry for being an intoxicatingly agreeable person who could lull you into a false sense of security and convince you to do anything he liked. 

Blaise Zabini was a poison apple. Handsome. Sly. Dangerous. She braced herself.

“What can I do for you?” she asked, and his smile broadened.

“Just dropping by, Granger,” he said, his lovely baritone tinged, as it always was, with a laid-back cheer. “I see you got your invitation to Draco’s annual extravaganza.”

“I did, yes,” she said, and he arched a perfect brow in the face of her weary tone.

“Come now,” he said. “What could possibly have you down about it? You’re always the life of the party. Hermione Granger, Golden Girl, Brightest Witch of–”

“ _ Please _ stop,” she protested. “I haven’t got time to go shopping for new robes, first of all, and I haven’t got a date.”

“Ron busy?”

“Ron broke up with me,” she sighed. She looked up at him and flipped her calendar closed with the invitation inside. Blaise said nothing, but tipped his head ever-so-slightly and pursed his lips somewhat, seeming to wait for her to continue. Shrugging, she added, “It was past time, I’m not upset. It’s just going to be a bloody nightmare navigating the holiday events without a date. I’ve seen the way the lads get with liquor in their systems and after  _ Witch Weekly’s _ bloody article about my wardrobe last month... Well, I’ll be swatting the Cormac McLaggens of the world away at every bar from here through the new year.”

“So let’s go together,” he said, shrugging.

“What?”

“I’m not seeing anyone, we’re friends, we’re going to most of the same events anyway,” he said, smiling cheerily at her. “Be my plus-one.”

“I… all right,” Hermione said, and then she frowned at him curiously. 

“What?”

“Is there some sort of catch?”

“Are you always so suspicious?” he asked, raising a brow. “Honestly, Granger.”

“Sorry,” she said, sheepishly. Then she smirked a little. “Old habits, Slytherins. You know.”

“Though,” he started, and the corner of his mouth curled up a bit. She dropped her shoulders and sighed.

“There  _ is _ a catch.”

“I wouldn’t call it a  _ catch,”  _ he said. “I was just thinking that if you want the Cormac McLaggens of the Ministry to leave you alone, people are going to need to think we’re actually dating.”

“Oh,” Hermione’s eyebrows shot up a bit. She blinked at him. “I, er–”

“Should be easy enough,” he barrelled on, and Hermione couldn’t help the small smile that began to form as he tipped his head thoughtfully, his gaze drifting upward to the ceiling as he spoke. His hands were in his pockets, robes pushed back by his arms, and as his eyes wandered idly somewhere between the top shelf of her legal books and the ceiling, she took a good look at him. She had to admit he was very good looking. And though she didn’t know him quite as well as she had Draco and Theo Nott, she knew enough to know she enjoyed talking to him. He wouldn’t be a dull date. They would certainly make a striking pair. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms as he mused. “You did just get out of your relationship with Ron. No one would expect us to be anything but a new couple, so if we come across a bit awkward, it’s to be expected.”

“You, awkward?” Hermione scoffed. “Does that ever happen?”

He dropped his eyes back to her and beamed at her, and she shook her head. “Sure it does.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“You ought to try trusting me, Granger,” he suggested. “I have yet to mislead you.”

“Forgive me for being a little wary of the man known Ministry-wide for being so charming he could talk a mermaid into buying a summer home in the Sahara,” she said, but she couldn’t help but laugh a little. His smile faltered just a hair before he spoke again.

“Would it appeal to your Gryffindor sensibilities if I made it a dare?” he suggested, leveling her with a gaze she could not quite interpret. Hands still in his pockets, he rocked a little on his heels. “Have a bit of fun with me, Granger. I dare you.”

She heaved a sigh. “Why not just ask me out for real?”

“You wouldn’t say yes to that.”

“I did  _ just _ get out of a relationship–”

He tapped his temple. “Two steps ahead of you, Granger.”

Leaning back in her chair again she looked him over once more. He watched her do it, and raised his brows expectantly. She had to admit that running the gamut of holiday events with a date nailed down would be far easier than going it alone. She already knew she could stand his presence; in fact, she was growing increasingly fond of every friend Draco had introduced her to over the years, which irritated and delighted her in equal measure. Bad enough she had come to think of Draco as one of her closest friends. Now she considered most of  _ his _ closest friends just as important to her.

Not that she’d admit it to Draco. She’d never hear the end of it.

She let out a long breath and then nodded. “Okay. But we have to lay down some ground rules.”

Blaise finally pulled his hands from his pockets to spread them invitingly in front of himself, a gesture of offering. “Whatever you like.”

“No hands below the waist,” she said, and he nodded. Thoughtfully, she hummed for a moment before she admitted, “I suppose we won’t make a very convincing new couple if we aren’t a bit affectionate, but nothing excessive.”

“Acceptable terms,” he smiled. “We’ll need a story.”

“Do you have any ideas?” she asked, and he dragged the chair she kept opposite her desk around the side of her desk to finally sit down with her. He leaned his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together in front of his face. Thoughtfully, he tapped his chin for a second, and then looked her in the eye. 

“When did you and Ron break up?”

“Last Thursday,” she said.

“What’d you do this weekend?”

“Lunch with friends at Harry and Luna’s, went to Flourish & Blott’s, nipped by Gringott’s,” she shrugged. “Then I went home and read the new Hippogriff Saga novel until I got tired.”

“Anyone see you at Flourish & Blotts?”

“No,” she said. Then she smiled, catching his meaning. “Or maybe I ran into you.”

“There we are,” he said, smiling cheerily. “Let’s say I asked you to dinner. We hit it off, went on a few dates, I asked you to join me for the Malfoy event–”

“The Ministry dinner comes first,” she said. She flipped her calendar open. “Ministry dinner this Friday, then Ginny’s quidditch league event–I suppose I’m the one that asked you to that one,” she said, smiling at him as he perked up. “ _ Then _ the Malfoy event, then Pansy’s New Years’ Eve thing.

“All right, so I asked you to the Ministry dinner,” he said. “And we had such a good time you asked me to join you at the quidditch thing. The other two will seem natural after we have a good time at those two.”

“Simple enough,” Hermione smiled. “What will we do after New Years?”

Blaise paused for a moment, a small frown flickering across his face before he shrugged. “Amicable breakup, I suppose.”

“Right,” Hermione grinned. “Well. Do we tell our friends?”

“Do we?” Blaise lobbed it back at her. She hummed thoughtfully. 

“Maybe not,” she conceded. “If even one of them slips, it’ll get around, and then the boyfriend-Blaise protections will wear off and McLaggen will come knocking.”

“Boyfriend-Blaise,” he smiled widely. “Girlfriend-Granger.”

“You are going to have to call me Hermione if you want my friends to believe we’re dating,” she smirked. He, Draco, and Theo all called her Granger. She was relatively certain it began with Draco, but one thing was for sure: none of them had ever, in her memory, used her first name by itself to address her. Blaise laughed.

“We will lose the alliterative joy of girlfriend-Granger,” he said, feigning sadness. “But I see your point.  _ Hermione.” _

“No pet names,” she added, and he shook his head.

“You’ll have to let me pick at least one,” he said. She frowned and started to protest. “Granger, I nickname  _ everybody _ . The others will realize immediately that something isn’t right if I’m going about calling my supposed girlfriend by her given name.”

She crossed her arms, thinking about it. He was right. For whatever reason, he seemed to be incapable of calling people by their full first names. Draco was Drake, Pansy was Pans, he used last names for nearly everyone he’d met through her, and it seemed he was allergic to using a name for Theo at all, simply calling him mate if he addressed him at all. “Fine. One pet name. Not baby or sweetheart, and if you call me ‘Mione even once I’ll hex you.”

He laughed. “All right. I’ll come up with something.”

***

_ “What _ is this?” Draco asked as she and Blaise arrived at the Ministry dinner together, Hermione’s arm hooked around Blaise’s elbow. A broad and curious smile bloomed on his face as he looked between them, and raised a brow. Hermione just glanced up at Blaise and grinned, letting him take the lead on answering. 

“It’s a date,” he said, smiling widely. Draco gave a happy little laugh and shook his head a little disbelievingly as Blaise continued. “Actually, this is our fourth date.”

“Were you planning on  _ telling me _ you were dating Granger?”

“We’re telling you now,” Hermione piped up, smiling pleasantly. Draco clapped a hand on Blaise’s shoulder and shook his head again. Harry arrived with Luna Lovegood a few moments later, and his reaction was equally astonished. 

“Draco didn’t tell me!” he said indignantly, and then he looked at Hermione seriously.  _ “You _ didn’t tell me!”

Draco chuckled. “I didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what?” asked Dean Thomas. At his side was Ginny Weasley, dressed fetchingly in forest green dress robes with a deep v-neck. Hermione noticed, not for the first time, that Draco went suddenly rigid as she appeared, standing up straighter. She kept meaning to ask him if he fancied her. Not to find out the answer–it was plain to her every time she saw them interact–but just to see how red his ears would turn when she asked. 

“You look lovely, Ginny,” Hermione offered, and the redhead smiled, her face lighting up cheerily. 

“Thanks! You do too,” she returned. She glanced at Blaise, and then at their hooked arms. “Wait, did I miss something? Is this a friends thing,” she gestured between herself and Dean to indicate that’s what they were doing this evening. “Or is it–”

“We’re dating,” Hermione said, and Ginny’s smile somehow grew even wider. 

“Oh, that’s brilliant, that’s bloody brilliant,” she grinned. Then she dropped her voice and leaned in, grabbing Hermione by the shoulder and bringing her mouth close to her ear to whisper, “Ron’s going to lose his fucking mind.”

“Let him,” Hermione muttered back, and then Ginny reared back and glanced briefly over at Harry and Luna, and then at Draco. 

“Well, I say it’s time we get some drinks,” Ginny said, straightening the front of her robes, and she turned to stake out the bar. Glancing back at Hermione, she amended her statement. “Actually, why don’t the boys get us drinks and let us ladies gossip a moment.”

“Of course,” Blaise said, and he walked off with Draco, Harry, and Dean. He winked at Hermione, who watched him go for a moment, wondering what kind of horrendous cocktail he would be bringing back for her. She considered calling an order after him, but then Luna smiled dreamily at her. 

“He already knows what you’d like, that’s so sweet,” she breathed, and then added. “I should have known something was going on. Your aura shifted a few weeks ago, but I thought it might just have been to do with Ron.”

“Er,” Hermione glanced at Ginny. She never knew what to say to Luna when she started on about auras and nargles and wrackspurts. Ginny just smiled widely. Hermione took the opportunity to redirect the conversation. “Draco looks nice tonight, doesn’t he?”

“He always looks nice,” Ginny said. She tried to sound nonchalant, but Hermione didn’t miss the slight reddening in her cheeks. Hermione suppressed a smile and Ginny protested. “What! He’s objectively attractive, I’m not–I’m–” Hermione stopped trying to hide her amusement and Ginny let out a little huff. “Oh, just leave it alone, Hermione.”

“Why? You like him, he clearly likes you,” she started, and then Ginny shushed her violently as she caught sight of Blaise returning with the others in tow, two drinks in his hand. Hermione couldn’t help but beam at him when he handed her a gin martini with two olives. Curiously, she kept her eyes on him as she took a sip, wondering how he’d figured her favorite drink out without giving up the game. They hadn’t discussed it. Maybe Harry had made some sort of comment.

“So,” Ginny took the firewhiskey Dean handed her and gestured with it between Hermione and Blaise. “How’d this start?”

“Ran into her at Flourish & Blotts,” Blaise smiled, taking a sip of his own drink, a liquor slightly darker than Ginny’s firewhiskey. Harry chuckled. 

“Her second home,” he muttered, and Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Now that she’s too old to live in the Hogwarts library,” Dean added. 

“Does she like books?” Draco asked, smirking. “I’d never noticed.”

“Says the swottiest man in Slytherin house,” Blaise retorted, and Draco feigned offense.

“Theo would be so unhappy with you if he’d heard you say that,” he said. “He worked so hard all those years to earn the title.”

“There’s a reason you two became such good friends,” Blaise said, gesturing to Hermione. “Which I suppose I now owe you thanks for, in a strange way.”

“Oh no, Draco does not get credit for this,” Hermione protested. “It’s Harry’s fault.”

_ “Mine?”  _ Harry gestured to himself. “How do you figure?”

“If we’re putting it down to ‘the person who introduced everything that led to this moment,’ it’s your fault,” she explained. “You’re the one that accepted when your supervisor said, ‘Hey, Harry, I found you a new partner.’”

“Still not sure why you did that,” Draco said, and then he tipped his glass in Harry’s direction. “Glad you did, mate.”

“I’m not sure either, to be honest,” he grinned crookedly. “Seems to have worked out.”

Ginny piped up. “Anyway. Flourish & Blotts?”

“Right, yes,” Blaise smiled, and Hermione looked up, watching him spin the tale they’d woven together for all their friends. He really was intensely attractive. They’d had a few meals together prior to this event, planning and setting boundaries and getting to know each other enough one-on-one that they could pass themselves off as a pair. Hermione found it all so easy. It wasn’t difficult leaning on him or letting him slide an arm around her shoulders as he spoke. She didn’t have to work to smile when he said something affectionate. Letting her gaze linger on him was no trouble at all. 

As he wrapped up the explanation he glanced down to find her watching him and his smile grew wider. He leaned down and gave her a swift kiss on the top of her head, a little morsel of affection that made her grin. 

“Aw, look at you,” Ginny gushed. “I’m glad you’re happy, Hermione.”

“And you, Blaise,” Draco added softly, nudging his friend on the shoulder with the back of his hand. He spoke so quietly to his friend that Hermione barely heard him add, “After all this time.”

Hermione looked up at Blaise curiously, but he just clinked glasses with Draco and let the comment go. Before she could follow it up, the event organizer’s voice carried over the crowd, asking everyone to take a seat so that the speeches could begin.

***

Hermione had a lie-in the following morning, not getting out of bed until the owl that delivered her copy of the  _ Daily Prophet _ made an obnoxious racket at her kitchen window and forced her out of bed. She padded across her little flat and let it in, giving it a treat from the drawer by the window. It clicked irritably at her but took the treat. She tossed the paper onto her kitchen table without looking at it, opting to make tea first. As she stirred milk into the mug, her fireplace flared to life.

Blaise’s head was in the grate. “Granger?”

“I’m here,” she said. “You can come through, if you like.”

“Righto,” he said cheerily. A minute later he was standing in her flat, looking around with an appraising look on his face. “Nice flat.”

“Thanks,” she said. “What brings you here?”

“The paper,” he said. His eyes landed on it and he realized she hadn’t taken a look yet; it was still wrapped in the band that kept it closed against wind and weather in transit. “Ah.”

“I slept in,” she said, picking up her tea. She got it halfway to her mouth and then stopped. “Sorry, would you like a cuppa?”

“Sure,” he said. 

“How do you–” she started to ask.

“Big whack of milk,” he said at the same time, and then he laughed a little nervously. Hermione smiled to herself. 

“So you  _ can _ be awkward,” she muttered. “Wonders never cease.”

“You’ll find I am, deep down, a regular bloke,” he said quietly, taking a seat at the table and removing the band from the paper. He flipped it open to the society page. “Anyway, I suppose we ought to have thought of this.”

“Hm?” Hermione came to the table with tea, and he gave her a grin as she set his down before seating herself beside him. He gestured to the pictures from the Ministry event the night before. There she was, tucked under Blaise’s arm. The photographer had captured the little kiss he’d planted on her head before everyone was called to their seats. She watched it loop a few times with a little smile on her face. “It’s a sweet photo.”

He smiled, and then tapped on the caption.  _ War hero and celebrated DMLE Solicitor Hermione Granger and her new beau Blaise Zabini, handsome heir to a lucrative wine dynasty, make their public debut as London’s new power couple.  _ “We’re the hot new item.”

“Of course we are,” she smiled at him. “Have you seen yourself?”

“Says the Golden Girl,” he lobbed back at her. Hermione rolled her eyes and heaved a sigh, but otherwise left it alone, opting to sip her tea and look over the other photos. There was a second taken of their table showing the side she’d sat on with Blaise, Draco, Luna, and Harry. The caption focused on her hair and jewelry as much as it focused on her placement between her “new flame” Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. 

“Are they ever going to stop doing that?” she wondered.

“Hm?”

_ “Supposedly reformed former death eater,”  _ she read out loud. 

“Probably not,” he said disdainfully. “He and his mum have given away enough galleons to buy the whole country at least twice. I think the only way to make it stop would be for him to buy the paper.”

“He could,” Hermione said, and then she glanced at Blaise with a little grin. “I would.”

“Of course you would,” he chuckled. “The first issue under your management would be one massive retraction of every lie they’ve ever published.”

“I’d be highly entertained by that,” she protested.

“I know you would.”

“I had fun last night,” she said, looking back at the paper. She tapped the looping photo of him kissing her on the head and added. “I suppose we ought to do more of that next time.”

“Next time is a quidditch game, is it not?”

“Yes and no,” Hermione nodded. “It’s not a scoring match, it’s a showcase. People from all the teams in the league. Ginny said there was some sort of seekers presentation that’ll have Harry and Draco both kicking themselves for not going pro.”

“As if they’re not doing that every time they hear the word quidditch anyway,” he laughed. “Speaking of Ginny…”

“Oh! She definitely has it bad for him,” Hermione grinned. “At this point it’s a matter of who asks first, not if it’ll happen.”

“My money’s on Draco,” he said immediately.

“Ginny won’t wait forever,” Hermione said. “I’ll bet she gets fed up and asks him.”

“Want to bet on it?” Blaise looked at her mischievously. Hermione leaned back in her chair and tossed her hair over her shoulder. 

“What are you thinking?”

He made a thoughtful face and then his eyes scanned her face. Then he replied, “If Draco asks first, I get a proper snogging in front of everyone at whichever event comes next.”

“What if they don’t do it before New Years?”

“If they don’t do it before New Years then something’s wrong with them both,” he muttered. “But even still. Whichever event comes next, even if it takes another half a year and it’s Drake’s bloody birthday.”

“Fine,” Hermione laughed and shook her head. “Ginny asks first, you take me to see your family’s vineyard.”

He smirked. “Which one?”

Hermione tipped her head. “There’s  _ more than one?” _

His laugh was loud and cheerful and lit his face up. It made Hermione smile just watching him brighten. With a crooked smile, he said, “There are three.”

“Okay then, the nicest one,” she beamed. “If Ginny asks first, I want a tour of the best Zabini vineyard.”

“Deal,” he grinned. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed that this deal is very lopsided.”

“You agreed to it!” Hermione laughed brightly. Blaise simply gave her a conciliatory shrug and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip of his tea. Hermione did the same and simply said, “Maybe I don’t think Ginny will wait much longer.”

“She certainly doesn’t have to,” Blaise agreed. “Every time she shows up he changes color like he’s a sentient Remembrall on stilts.”

Hermione giggled at the imagery. Blaise watched her, amused, and then glanced back at the paper. He gestured toward the picture of them. “So, more of that next time?”

“You  _ are _ meant to be fond of me,” she said. 

“And you of me,” he smirked. “I did most of the work last night. Don’t be afraid, Granger. Paw at me all you like.”

“I will not  _ paw _ at you, Blaise, we aren’t hormonal teenagers,” she scoffed. “But I take your point.”

“One more thing,” he said, and Hermione raised a brow. “Eat with me at work. At least sometimes, while we’re doing this. It’ll look odd that we both work in the building but never seem to make the time.”

“Good idea,” Hermione said. Then, with a thoughtful hum, she added. “Actually, have you eaten?”

“Nope,” he popped the p and then took another sip of his tea. “Why?”

“Why don’t we nip down to the Leaky for breakfast?”

He beamed at her again and her heart skipped a beat. Immediately, a sobering reminder followed behind.  _ This isn’t real. It’s just an arrangement. _ Hermione internally warned herself to slow down, to be careful. It was too easy with Blaise. He was so damn charming. So she braced herself, reminding herself to be cautious.

Because if she wasn’t careful, if she didn’t watch herself, he’d break her fucking heart.

***

“They couldn’t do these showcases in the summer when it’s warm?” Pansy complained, reaching over and taking Neville’s scarf right off his neck.

“Oi!” he protested, and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Patience, Nev,” she said, and then she pointed her wand at the scarf, making it three times as long. She wrapped one end around her own neck and then, with exaggerated care and ridiculous sugary cooing, wrapped the other end back around him, finishing the whole saccharine display by kissing the tip of his nose, which he scrunched up at her.

“You could have done that without taking it off me,” he said, smiling. 

“You two are disgusting,” Draco muttered. Hermione nudged him with her elbow while Pansy stuck her tongue out at him.

“Come on, Draco, they’re adorable,” she said, smiling as he rolled his eyes and sighed heavily at her. She smiled brightly as Blaise returned holding a carrier of hot drinks. As Blaise sat to her other side, she pulled two drinks off it, handing the other to Draco. 

“Please don’t surround me on all sides with this behavior,” he said, glancing at Blaise. Hermione smiled sweetly. 

“I will make no promises,” she said, and as Draco started to roll his eyes again, she added, “You know, if you’d hurry up and ask Ginny out on a proper date, you could join in on all of this.”

“Shut up,” he said, though the corner of his mouth turned up just a bit. He tried to mask it with a sip from his cup. Hermione just grinned at him.

“I think they’ve got the right idea,” Blaise said from her other side, and before Hermione could ask what he meant, he draped a grey and green striped Slytherin scarf over her. When she turned toward him he gave her a quick kiss and smiled at her. “You look good in green.”

“I look good in every color, I will have you know,” she retorted, and from in front of them Pansy snorted. She and Neville both turned to look up at them.

“Canary yellow, Granger,” she said. “You would look  _ terrible _ in canary yellow.”

“That just looks wrong,” Neville said, gesturing at the scarf. “What would Harry say?”

“What would I say about what?” Harry asked as he arrived. Neville gestured with a sweeping hand up and down in Hermione’s general direction, and then Harry’s gaze fell on the scarf. He smirked at her and with a glint in his eye, simply said, “Traitor.”

Hermione gave him a grin and gestured all around herself.  _ “You _ brought us the snakes. It’s not my fault they’re so charming.”

“Why does it always feel like you’re  _ blaming _ Potter for my presence in your life, rather than thanking him?” Draco murmured, and she elbowed him again. 

“Shove it, Malfoy, you know I like you best,” she said.

Blaise made a sound of protest from her other side and Draco smiled smugly at him. Hermione laughed as Blaise slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to his side to plant a kiss on the side of her head. “Sure about that, love?”

An impulsive thought popped into her head and she decided, in the good old Gryffindor spirit, to follow it. She turned to Blaise and smiled widely, then pulled his face to hers and planted a proper kiss on his lips. He chuckled warmly against her and when she pulled back he simply smiled cheerily at her. He kept his arm around her shoulder as music blared up all around them and a league official began announcing the beginning of the event. 

She had forgotten that Blaise, too, had played quidditch at Hogwarts. It was not long at all before she found herself scrambling to stand up, tethered to him by their shared scarf, as he, Draco, and Harry stood to get a better view of the show. The whole crowd was on their feet, and Hermione found herself having to stand on her toes, pulling up to see the formations flown closer to the ground. Palms on Draco and Blaise’s shoulders, she bounced up and peered down into the stadium. The third time she did it, Blaise glanced over at her with a thoughtful frown. She shrugged at him.

“I’m too short,” she said.

“You’re perfect,” he replied. He maneuvered her to stand in the little space in front of Draco, who raised a brow. Blaise just said, “Don’t knock her into Neville.”

“What are you doing?” he asked as he put an arm around Hermione to keep her steady. She watched curiously as Blaise placed his empty cup in the spot where she’d been standing. Drawing his wand, he transfigured it into an apple box. Draco cracked up and then helped Hermione get up on it. 

“Better?” Blaise asked, smiling. Hermione gave him another kiss as an answer.

***

Hermione walked into her office, unfolding a paper airplane that had lodged itself in her hair on the lift on her way up. As she read it, she circled her desk, dropping into her chair as she scanned the missive. The meeting she’d set for 11:00, a meeting she’d already rescheduled six times, had been cancelled  _ again.  _ She sighed heavily.

“Something wrong, love?”

She slammed her knee into the underside of the desk as she jumped. Blaise chuckled from the chair on the other side of her desk. Bringing a hand to her chest, she admonished him, “You startled me! Were you sitting there this whole time?”

“I was,” he smiled at her. “I brought you a coffee.”

“Thanks,” she smiled back, relaxing somewhat as he handed the cup to her. She popped the lid off to peer inside. It  _ looked  _ like the mocha she was partial to, but how would Blaise even know that’s what she liked? She put the lid back on and took a sip. 

It  _ was _ a mocha.

“Okay, how do you do that?” she asked. “That’s the second time you’ve known my order when I know I haven’t told you–”

Blaise made an exaggerated thinking face and mused out loud. “Do I tell you my secrets?”

“Tell me how you know my drink orders and I’ll allow another pet name,” she offered. Blaise beamed at her.

“You ordered a mocha every time, without fail, at the Symposium in Newcastle last year,” he said. “Plus you asked Draco to get you one last time we all met up for one of Ginny’s games. As for the martini, there aren’t a lot of drinks with olives in to begin with, and anytime there are olives anywhere, you can’t help yourself. I’m convinced you order martinis just because you get an olive out of it.”

Hermione smiled widely. “I do, I really do.”

“I’ll have to think over a new pet name,” he said. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he added, “If you hate it, just say so and I’ll come up with another. I won’t call you something you don’t like.”

“Okay,” she smiled, and then she took another sip of her coffee. He sipped at his own, and she gestured toward it. “What’s yours, then?”

“Latte,” he said. Then he smirked. “With extra milk.”

She laughed. “So you like milk with a touch of coffee.”

“Guilty as charged,” he said. 

“I won’t judge,” she said. “You like what you like.”

“I knew there’s a reason I’m fake dating you,” he beamed. 

“Actually I’m glad you came today, I have nothing to do on Sunday,” she said. “I need dress robes for Draco’s thing, though. If you’re not busy, you can come with me and help me decide.”

“Why not?” he shrugged, and then he took another sip of his coffee. He opened his mouth to say something else, but there was a knock at Hermione’s door. He spun in his seat as she looked up to find Harry standing in the doorway. 

“Hey, Hermione,” he said. “Hey, Zabini.”

“Potter,” Blaise nodded. 

“Hi, Harry,” Hermione smiled broadly. “What’s up?”

“I hate to interrupt,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning on the frame of the door. “But we’ve just apprehended Walden MacNair, and I know you’re on at least six cases–”

“I’ll be right there,” Hermione bolted up out of her seat. Blaise stood as well, watching with a little smile on his face as she scrambled to gather herself, flipping through the top drawer of her desk and yanking out a file the size of  _ Hogwarts: A History.  _ She rushed out from behind her desk with it and then stopped halfway to the door. With Harry watching, she thought it would be odd to breeze out past Blaise. She turned and rushed to him, lifting up onto her toes and giving him a quick kiss. “I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Of course,” he smiled widely at her, and then tipped his head toward the desk. “Don’t forget your coffee.”

“Right!” she chirped, leaning and grabbing the cup from the desk. “Right, thank you.”

Harry chuckled as Hermione breezed past him into the hallway. He followed her, pressing the button in the lift as they got in together. “He’s treating you well?”

“Very,” Hermione smiled, and Harry nodded. With a little bit of a braggy tone, she added, “He brought me a mocha this morning.”

“He learns fast,” Harry laughed again. “Pretty sure Ron  _ still _ wouldn’t know what to bring you.”

“Yes, well, he was never the most observant partner,” Hermione shrugged. Then she frowned as she realized she hadn’t heard from him at all since their split. “How is he?”

“Er,” Harry looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Well, he’s still  _ Ron,  _ obviously. You haven’t talked to him?”

“I guess not,” she said, frowning. It had been weeks now. “I should probably reach out.”

“I should warn you,” Harry said, fidgeting. He frowned a little. “He’s said some things about you and Blaise. They’re not… well, you know how he gets about Slytherins. He saw it in the paper.”

Hermione heaved a sigh. “Of course.”

“It’ll be fine, Hermione,” Harry said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. The doors to the lift opened with a pleasant  _ ding  _ and they stepped out, running almost immediately into Draco, who launched into an update on what the interrogators had managed to get out of MacNair since they’d brought him in. As the details of the case took over her mind, her concerns about Ron fell away.

***

Hermione was fucked. 

Hermione was well and truly  _ fucked. _

Blaise had joined her for lunch and robe shopping as promised and it had been such an enjoyable outing that she had nearly forgotten they were pretending. 

They’d split a dessert at lunch. He’d held her hand as they walked Diagon Alley. He’d opened doors for her. They’d shared engaging conversation all day long. 

And the look on his face when he’d seen her in the robes she ultimately chose for Draco’s charity event had been so intense she could have sworn he genuinely wanted her. They were a wine-dark red with a plunging v-neck that would perfectly show off a crystal pendant Luna had gifted her for her birthday that year. Blaise had taken a very long look at her, cleared his throat, and stammered, “It’s beautiful, you look beautiful.”

She couldn’t shake the image. It was such a powerful reaction. It had blindsided her and then it had absolutely thrilled her. She had felt her heart hammering as his eyes raked over her. She’d wanted him to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. 

He’d brought her home afterward, leaving her at her door with a kiss to the cheek and an “I’ll see you at work.” And then she’d come inside and flopped over onto her couch and groaned loudly into her pillows. 

She’d gone and fallen for him. Somewhere along the way, she had genuinely fallen for him. That much she had to admit at this point. Rolling onto her back, she stared at her ceiling and tried to work logically through everything. Crookshanks took her position to be an invitation to sit on her chest. She stroked him idly, worrying over every interaction they’d had thus far, but she couldn’t tell charm from intent. He aimed the same dazzling smiles at her as he did at every assistant to every department manager in the Ministry. His laid-back cheer was universal. He was so bloody amenable to everything that she could read everything as both clear interest in her and complete disinterest. 

She couldn’t tell if he liked her back or if he was just being  _ Blaise.  _

Hermione was fucked.

***

“So good to see you again, Hermione dear,” Narcissa Malfoy took her hand in hers and greeted her as she arrived via floo to Malfoy Manor. “You look absolutely resplendent in red, truly.”

“Thank you, Narcissa,” Hermione smiled. “You know Blaise.”

“Of course,” she beamed at him. A mischievous glint twinkled in her eye, one that Hermione recognized. Draco had inherited it. Narcissa added, “Why Hermione has deigned to lower herself to be with you is beyond me.”

“A pleasure as always, Narcissa,” Blaise said with a warm laugh, taking her hand and bowing to drop a kiss to the back of it. “I trust you’re well.”

“As well as can be,” she said. “Go on, go and enjoy the festivities.”

“Shall we?” Blaise asked, offering Hermione his elbow. She hooked her arm to his gladly. It didn’t take long to find Draco, who stood at the bottom of the stairs, leaning coolly against the banister with a champagne flute held in his slender fingers. 

“Fuck, my friends are hot,” Draco muttered as they arrived. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh a little as Draco gave her a one-armed hug before clapping Blaise on the shoulder. 

“I have to pinch myself sometimes,” she muttered. “Everyone I know is tall and beautiful, it’s really unfair.”

“Not true,” Draco said, pointing at her with a smirk. “Finnigan is short.”

“Itty bitty,” Blaise offered. “Honestly, it’s as though he’s part goblin.”

“It would explain the face, too,” Draco replied.

“Oh stop,” Hermione shook her head, laughing softly. “Seamus is a sweetheart.”

“There are many words I would use to describe Finnigan,” Blaise said. “‘Sweetheart’ is not one of them.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and he laughed brightly, kissing her temple. “Come, love, let’s get ourselves some drinks.”

“Do you mind? There’s something I want to ask Draco,” she said, and Blaise nodded, walking off. She turned to the blond. “Can I talk to you alone for a moment?”

Draco raised a curious eyebrow, but gestured to a nearby door. He held it open for her and closed it behind them. It led to a richly appointed study, a heavy wooden desk centered beneath curtained windows. Hermione turned to look at him, wringing her hands thoughtfully. He frowned. “Is something the matter?”

“I can’t read him,” she said, chewing at her lip. She wanted to feel out her concerns without giving away the arrangement, so she opted just to frame it as jitters. She clarified unnecessarily, “Blaise, I mean.”

He laughed. “How do you mean?”

“I mean he… he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world but then he looks at every assistant across the Ministry the same way, I can’t tell what’s real and what’s that bloody  _ charm _ of his.”

“Are you worried he doesn’t like you?”

“No,” she twisted her mouth thoughtfully. “Yes? I don’t know. I just… is there a tell? Some  _ clue _ I could… I don’t know. Help?”

“If it makes you feel better, I’ve known him since we were kids. He doesn’t waste energy on appearances when we’re alone,” Draco offered. He stepped closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. “If he doesn’t have to put on a show he doesn’t bother.”

“But what if he feels like he has to for me?”

Draco chuckled and shook his head. “I highly doubt that, Hermione.”

Her eyebrows rose a little at his use of her given name. He offered her a sympathetic smile and patted her shoulder. She sighed. “I’m thinking too hard, aren’t I?”

“Yep,” and then he smiled widely. Tipping his head toward the door, he said, “Let’s get back out there. Have a drink, dance a bit.  _ Relax.” _

“Easier said than done,” she said, but when he opened the door and led her back out, she followed. They found Harry, Luna, Ginny, Neville, and Pansy nearby. Moments later, Blaise joined them, leaning in for a kiss as he handed Hermione her martini. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, and she nodded. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and the whole group made their way further into the house. Draco and Narcissa had arranged for live music, and before long, everyone was dancing. Blaise swept her gallantly around the dance floor, and once again she found herself forgetting it was an arrangement. He made her feel lighter than air. His attention was focused solely on her; every glance, every gesture designed to make her feel beautiful and happy. And it worked wonderfully. For a few hours, she just felt loved, the details of their arrangement pushed completely from her mind.

Narcissa made a speech near the end of the event, thanking everyone for their attendance and their contributions to the charities chosen for this year’s endowment. As Hermione listened to her, she glanced over at Blaise, who had leaned sideways to mutter quietly to Pansy. 

The fact that this was an arrangement hit her like a bludger to the head. The evening thus far had been so enjoyable, so pleasant, that it nearly made her cry to remember. Swallowing at the lump that rose in her throat and biting the inside of her cheek to stave off tears, she dropped her gaze to the floor. As soon as Narcissa finished her speech, she slipped away, ducking back into the front hall of the house. The door to the study was closed, and she slipped inside, gulping back a sob even as she shut the door behind her. Her resolve crumpled.

Then she turned and found Draco and Ginny gasping for breath, clearly interrupted mid-snog session by her tearful entrance. 

“I—I’m sorry,” she tried to gather herself, frowning at them, and Draco glanced quickly at Ginny before stepping toward her.

“What happened?” he asked, and she just shook her head and let out another sob, grabbing for the doorknob and making her escape. Her only options from here were to go back to the party, leave via floo, or go out the front door to the grounds. She went outside.

The front steps of the house flared gracefully out, widening as they descended. She didn’t go far, seating herself on one end of the lower steps. She drew her knees up to her chest and tried to calm her breathing. When she’d steadied herself, she remained, watching one of the pure white Malfoy peacocks wander by and wondering why it was awake at this hour. The festivities must have disturbed it.

“There you are,” Blaise’s voice came from behind her, and then he sat down next to her. “Drake just gave me an earful, I thought you might know why.”

She looked at him and immediately, he frowned. “What happened? What’s made you cry?”

“I can’t do this, Blaise,” she said, her voice cracking. “I can’t pretend, I—It’s becoming too real, I forget it’s fake and then when I remember it—“

“Oh,” he said, and he shifted slightly sideways to face her more directly. “So you want to stop?”

“No,” her voice cracked as she said it, and she looked back out toward the grounds. “That’s the trouble, isn’t it? You’re just pretending, it’s the same charm and easy smiles you give everyone, and it makes me feel like the only woman in the world until I remember it isn’t real and then I feel like this,” she said, gesturing to herself. A tear rolled down her cheek and she started to cry again, and now she felt embarrassed and humiliated and so terribly awkward. She dropped her chin. “I’m sorry, I’ve gone and made it difficult. Please, just go, I’ll… I’ll figure it out.”

“Hermione, wait,” he said, softly, and he put his hand on her shoulder. “Please, look at me.”

Hermione bit her lower lip as she looked up at him, swiping quickly at her face. His dark eyes met hers and she saw the same sadness reflected back. For the first time, she could actually read him clearly, and what she found when he let his guard down surprised her. Without all the bravado and charm and bluster, he looked like his heart was breaking. “Blaise—“

“I’m not pretending,” he said, softly. He cleared his throat and took her hand in his. “And now I’m worried I’ve been too good at masking it and you won’t believe me.”

“I…”

“Look, I’ve known your coffee order for a year. I’ve known you love olives since the day Drake invited me out for drinks with you lot after he and Harry became partners. You chew your lip when you’re thinking too hard and when something sincerely amuses you, you giggle and it’s the cutest sound in the world. I only poured the charm on every assistant in the DMLE so no one would care when I flirted relentlessly with you to try and make you see past Ron Weasley.”

A soft huff of a laugh escaped Hermione, and Blaise’s mouth turned up a bit in response. He kept going. “When you kissed me at the quidditch thing you made my bloody  _ year,  _ you know.”

“I interrupted Draco and Ginny snogging,” she offered softly. “But I have no idea who started it.”

He smiled widely then and he slipped his hand into her hair, curling his fingers around the nape of her neck. Pulling her close, he pressed his lips to hers, a slow and deliberate kiss that felt new and different. It was honest and heartfelt, and it melted her heart. She sighed softly against him and leaned into it, parting her lips and granting him access to deepen it. He kissed her more and more intensely until finally she pulled away to breathe. Then, he chuckled.

“I’ll take you to all three vineyards if you’ll agree to be my girlfriend for real,” he said, quietly, pressing his forehead to hers. 

“I’ll be your girlfriend,” she replied, smiling widely. “And if you take me back inside now, you can snog me senseless in the middle of the dance floor in front of everyone, though it will  _ definitely _ make the paper.”

He laughed happily and stood, pulling her up by the hand and wrapping her in an embrace, kissing her again before leading her up the stairs. When they returned he pulled her to the dance floor. The band was playing something slow and romantic and around them, couples were swaying together. With a chuckle, Blaise nudged her to look to his left. Draco and Ginny were there, dancing together. Hermione smiled, and as she did, Draco glanced up and caught her eye. He mouthed _ okay? _ at her and she nodded, leaning her head on Blaise’s chest. 

Blaise squeezed her hand, clasping it over his heart and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. She closed her eyes and basked.

***

“This is bloody mental,” Ron muttered as he arrived at the New Years party at the Leaky Cauldron and took in the sight of three of his loved ones, including his little sister, paired off with Slytherins.

“Gryffindors are prone to derangement,” Draco offered. Ginny elbowed him, earning laughs from the rest of the crowd. Even Seamus, usually reticent around the Slytherins, joined in.

“As I am presently reaping the benefits of a serious case of Gryffindor derangement, I have no complaints,” Blaise said, and Pansy lifted her glass with a cheery sound of agreement.

“Are we sure it isn’t a sort of madness on the part of you Slytherins?” Hermione offered pleasantly. “Harry didn’t wind up with one of you lot, and I certainly don’t  _ feel  _ deranged.”

“A compelling argument,” Neville said. 

“Theo’s not showing any signs of madness,” Draco suggested. Theo shook his head.

“Sorry, mate,” he smiled widely. “I’ve just secured a date with the jaw-droppingly handsome Gryffindor to your left.”

Draco turned to look and Dean Thomas, back from the bar with a glass of liquor, gave him a cheeky smile. Draco just laughed and shook his head. “Signs point to Slytherin madness. I’m afraid Granger might be—“

“Don’t say it—“ Ginny groaned.

“—Right,” he finished, and Hermione smiled broadly, clinking her glass against Draco’s with a triumphant little laugh.

“This is why you’re my favorite,” she said, making Draco smile smugly as Blaise slid his arm around her middle, yanking her close.

“How in the hell do I unseat him?” Blaise asked, and there was laughter all around as Hermione grinned wickedly, tongue between her teeth. Turning in his grip, she cupped his face with her free hand, pulling him down for a kiss. 

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said encouragingly. Then she tapped him on the temple. “Or aren’t you two steps ahead, Zabini?”

**Author's Note:**

> For my beautiful beta [ginnysocks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginnysocks/), who also takes her tea and coffee with far more milk than makes any kind of sense. Thank you for betaing your own presents!


End file.
